It’s not essential but it’s nice to know which house you’re in prior to seeing the smash hit Potted Potter, an unauthorised parody of Harry Potter’s Hogwarts’ experience, attempting to condense all seven Harry Potter books live on stage in 70 minutes. Actually, it’s just two funny British guys telling us what we already know about the boy wizard defeating the evil Lord Voldemort, and unashamedly failing to fill in the gaps. That’s it! That just happened!

Because we’d missed Potted Potter at the Powerhouse a few years ago, we walk in not knowing what to expect and walk out loving every bit of whatever irreverent clever comedy that was.

The first thing to realise is that it doesn’t feel like 70 minutes because it’s so much fun. And the second thing to realise is that it’s so much fun because what seemed a solid plan, to recount Harry Potter’s adventures as they occur chronologically in J.K. Rowling’s famous series comprising seven books, is thrown out the window when it’s revealed very early in the piece that one of the two performers hasn’t actually read any of the books. Nor did he secure any actors to play over 300 roles, or get the set and props required to accurately represent the story on stage for a discerning audience of Potterheads and their parents.

While Scott is a legit Potterhead, the authority figure to Dan’s little boy persona, super serious at first and intent on sharing his knowledge with us, all Dan wants to do is play quidditch. He’s obsessed! Like a kid who’s been promised a trip to the beach after a week of rain, he can’t let quidditch go. For Dan, quidditch is the answer to everything. Interestingly, without reading the books, and without being familiar with the characters, quidditch-obsessed Dan manages to nail a Powerpoint presentation summarising Book 3 (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban), before the quidditch World Cup has even occurred! It’s a mystifying muggle miracle!

Dan’s quidditch match, played live in the theatre with the audience divided into Gryffindor and Slytherin fans, is an absolute highlight for most, it’s so much fun. As silly as it is, there’s just something about a big inflatable ball being shared with the audience, isn’t there? And a special side note from Dan to everyone seated above in the balcony might have them booking earlier in future, in order to secure seats in the coveted stalls where all the action is! These offhand comments, obviously irresistible, and usually coming from naughty, distractible Dan, are typical of the frequent funny hooks for the “casual fans”, who may miss some of the actual Potter references. Rather than admonishing him, Scott just about falls about laughing with him, which makes the whole experience even more relatable and enjoyable, although we’re quite sure there are some cynics in the crowd thinking, “Get on with the storytelling!” and “I thought this was a Harry Potter show!”

Other hilarious meta-references are at the expense of teachers and Trump’s America. After Dan questions the greatest wizard in all the world choosing to become, of all things, a teacher, an awkward silence follows and he fills it by innocently observing, “Who knew there were so many teachers in Brisbane!?” We all remember when Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone became Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone for the Americans, giving Dan licence to admit that it’s a pleasure to be back in an intelligent country. Further political references ensue, including a dire warning that “Donald Trump is coming for you, Australia!” These jokes (however terrifyingly too-real!), are met with cheers and applause from an appreciative audience. The prepared improvisation is exceptional, and exceptionally funny. These guys gain the respect of the Potterheads and the casual fans, appealing to all ages and sentiments.

Dan’s interpretations of the characters are deliberately at odds with the original characters, which is very funny. Ron becomes Gangsta’ Ron in a bright orange wig and Hermione sports blonde schoolgirl plaits beneath a straw hat, more Hanging Rock than Hogwarts, and a baritone voice; there’s room for a Priscilla style drag queen act here. (Of course, no spoilers re the finale, but we also enjoy plenty of Priscilla-playing-next-door references, ie. “You won’t see that in Priscilla“)! Lord of the Rings, Narnia and even (the “inappropriate, Scott!”) Fifty Shades of Grey get a nod, as do Star Wars,Shrek, Wicked and little orphan Annie – not Ginnie – introduced as the youngest of the Weasley family. Unsurprisingly, Scott recoils when Dan-as-Ginnie-not-Annie tries to give him a kiss.

The running joke, repeated ad nauseam (almost too often, just as the set up appears to run too long before the show really starts), remains stubbornly focused on the amount of production money spent not on actors or scenery or props, but on the fire-breathing Hungarian Horntail dragon featured in Book 4 (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire), not an enormous animatronic King Kong creation but a hand puppet accompanied by Dan’s vocal effects and sweeping gestures. Scott Hoatson is the perfect foil to Daniel Clarkson’s ridiculous antics throughout, always trying to get the show back on track and simply tell the story. We love his Scottish accent, his undying trust of Dan and the constant deferrals to him, and his determination to honour his “close friend” J.K. Rowling’s storytelling. These guys are a super talented pair and it’s a delight to see them work so effortlessly at this style of comedy. It’s even funnier to share the jokes and the happy accidents with them, as they lose it and laugh on stage. It makes the whole experience special, just for us, and totally relatable, as if we’re sharing our favourite Harry Potter moments amongst friends.

The clever incorporation of props at precisely the right time helps to punctuate the most dramatic or poignant moments from each book. When Dan opens the coffin on stage to take two hats for our quidditch seekers (willing volunteers from the crowd), from a skeleton’s hand, he addresses the skeleton as Cedric, thanking him as he takes the hats. Complete silence follows. “Too soon?” he asks. More uncomfortable silence. Still in shock, we miss the Twilight reference that follows but others laugh hysterically. We always notice that we like to laugh during uncertain times, don’t we, and this show is just the thing. Whether or not you’re a Potterhead is irrelevant; the laughs are in the polished-unpolished, superbly confident and cheeky, transparent performances more than in the content.

Nevertheless, our own memories of reading the books for the first time, of seeing each film, of sharing our favourite moments with family and friends who are just as obsessed (or not!) with Harry Potter as we are, come flooding back during the show and afterwards, as we recall the funniest scenes on stage, either very loosely handled or very precisely manipulated – who can say? – by Director, Richard Hurst.

Potted Potter relies on a relaxed sense of humour and our knowledge of Harry Potter’s world, or at least the knowledge acquired through osmosis by those who live with Potterheads, and follows a deceptively simple formula of broken expectations. It’s the sort of childlike, improvised, never-to-be-repeated genius that you might expect to see in the living room around Christmas time, a play put on by the kids, involving every stuffed toy and unassuming adult in the house. This show is so crazy it just works. You can’t help but love it and laugh out loud.

Follow Blog via Email

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.